Bill Mulliner cradled her in his arms.
'Bill—Bill—Bill!'
He looked over his shoulder.
'Ma'am—'
'We've gotta get out of here,' and she picked up his M-, giving hers to Michael. 'Don't try, using this— something wrong—maybe the clip.' Her husband had always told her to call them magazines, she suddenly remembered.
'Bill!'
'But ma'am—gotta bury—'
'Carry her—we'll bury her later—come on—come on— now!'
She pushed Michael and Annie ahead of her, toward the trees where Mary waited.
Bill Mulliner was walking—not fast—he held the girl in his arms, blood drenching the front of his clothes.
Sarah Rourke shifted the M-'s muzzle from side to side, running—her lungs ached, her shins ached. There were Russians everywhere—she would run for a long time still, she knew.
Chapter 59
Cole had remained quiet—stayed to himself. Rourke watched him as they walked, having taken the defile rather than the higher ground. He watched him because he distrusted him. But at least the fight had silenced him.
Natalia moved well, but without the usual spring to her step. Rubenstein still carried her pack, Rourke having taken her rifle. The woman now walked only with the double flap holsters containing the custom Smith L- Frames Sam Chambers had given her—these her only burden.
He watched her now—she seemed cold, the borrowed parka held close around her, the hood up, covering the dark, almost black hair which normally fell past her shoulders. He missed seeing it.
O'Neal walked beside him. 'Doctor Rourke—how much longer?'
'We should be able to see Filmore once we get over the rise—then maybe a couple of hours more.'
'I don't think the major is gonna make it that long.'
Rourke nodded, then added, 'Neither do I—once we get out of the defile, we can rest for a while—maybe take a few hours to sleep. She needs it—all of us do.'
He glanced at his watch—it would be dark in less than an hour—a good time to rest. He judged them still having ten minutes more walking time in the defile—that would leave plenty of time to set up camp and post sentries.
But as yet, there had been no sign of the wildmen—only the sixth sense that they were out there. This had kept him driving them all throughout the day.
'Think those crazy people know we're here?'
'Yeah,' Rourke said through his teeth.
'Think they're gonna attack?'
'Yeah—maybe not for a while yet—if they waited this long—' He stopped—in the fading reddish sun he caught the glint of steel in the rocks. He kept walking.
'O'Neal—without having your people change their pace—without anything—tell them to be ready for it— we've got company.'
O'Neal started to look up. 'Don't—up in those rocks to our left—gonna spring it on us when we reach the end of the defile—maybe just before.'
Rourke quickened his pace, but only slightly, leaving O'Neal gradually more and more to his rear, catching up with Natalia and Rubenstein.
'Here,' he rasped through his teeth, Natalia turning to look at him, her eyes wide, staring, 'Carry your rifle—gonna need it.'
Paul glanced toward him, never changing his pace. 'Up in the rocks? I saw something catch the sun.'
'Rifle maybe—I figure they're up there.'
'Wonderful,' Rubenstein groaned.
'John—if you have to—I'll slow you—'
'Shut up,' he smiled, walking past her then as she took her M-.
Cole and one of his troopers led the ragged column. Rourke—slowly—caught up with him.
'Cole—up in the rocks—got company. Don't act differently—just keep walking.'
